Strays
by The Escaped
Summary: Keladry might be the Protector of the Small, but her habit of picking up strays wasn't all hers. Raoul didn't just teach her logistics, after all. KelxLerant if you squint.


_The plot-bunnies have overtaken my mind, so this is the product of my attempt to write the next chapter of Teaching Discipline. I think it came out pretty well though! This is my first time writing anything for Protector of the Small, and I hope I did a good job. I have a lot of respect for all of the characters in it. I suppose this is Kel-Lerant if you squint, but I am perfectly fine with that, because let's be honest, it would be a lot of fun._

_Disclaimer: I own no part of the Tortall universe, regardless of generation. (Sob)_

Strays

Fresh from being rejected as a _foot soldier_, Lerant looked up at the hand on his shoulder, ready for a fight. The size of the man didn't stop him, but the badge on the badge on his chest did. You didn't have to be brilliant to recognize the mark of the King's Own, and Lerant had spent the last few years gathering a collection of rejections from the fighting ranks of Tortall. He knew how to spot the subtle differences between the common soldiers and that of the Knight Commander.

He wasn't expecting to be met with a large grin. Raoul of Goldenlake was cheerful by all accounts, but cheerfulness didn't usually extend to Lerant.

"I hear you've been looking for a post," he said, not taking his hand from Lerant's shoulder.

Lerant tried shrugging him off, without success. "Don't you know treachery is catching?"

"More's the pity," the broad-shouldered man informed him merrily, "We're in need of a standard bearer."

This was too much. He couldn't fight his way out of the knight's hold, but Lerant could use a trick he'd learned from fights against idiots who thought he needed a lesson in honor. He managed to slip from Goldenlake's grasp. "Very funny." He needed a real post, not one as whipping boy for the King's Own. This was a waste of his time, and a cruel one at that.

"There'll be plenty of fighting," Raoul called after him, "Plenty of chances to prove your loyalty to the realm. And you don't think you need friends, I can tell, but the Own will set you straight there as well."

No one gave to Eldorne. Anything he got, he would have to fight for it a thousand times over what anyone else needed to do. Lerant had accepted that, he could tolerate it. But he wouldn't tolerate a joke at his expense.

"I don't need your _pity_!"

Raoul of Goldenlake met his eyes levelly, without any of the signs Lerant was familiar with that meant sarcasm, or disdain. "Good. I'm not offering you any. We're signing up members in the Dancing Dove tonight. I thought I would let you know in advance."

And then he began to walk away. Lerant stared, suddenly desperate.

"Then why? If it's not pity?"

Raoul turned back, the smile on his face already returning. "Why, I hate to see a strong man go to waste, that's all."

xxxxx

Her voice was a calm mist in his mind, obviously alien. Peachblossom didn't have many calm thoughts in his mind.

But the Wildmage had been maddeningly calm, ever since she'd found her storkman. She moved the cool mist into the scars on his sides, healing them. Besides that, Cloud had given her good lessons on dealing with ornery horses.

She's not like your old Two-Legger. She wants to help you. She's already done a great deal for you already.

Peachblossom snorted. He'd seen what that help led up to already. It was well enough with the People trapped in Two-Leggers, like Stefan and Daine, but the others weren't worth the oats they spilled.

_She wants to keep you as a mount. _The Wildmage told him, _Lots of excitement for a big destrier like you. And she won't use the sharp spurs, I promise. I'll tell her._

Peachblossom doubted that, and he said so.

The filly frowned when Daine told her, as the gelding had expected. "We'll have to use them in a few years," said the squeaker.

_That's Two-Leggers, _Peachblossom told the Wildmage, _they teach their colts to hurt early on._

When Daine explained about the good spurs Stefan loved, the filly acquiesced immediately. Peachblossom sneezed in surprise.

_I told you._ The Wildmage was amused in his mind.

Peachblossom was rarely amused, and certainly not now. _I reserve the right to bite the squeaker. _  
The Wildmage sighed. _Not too hard. He needs those hands._

_And I demand to know what these 'nieces and nephews' are that she compared me to._

xxxxx

"A stray?" The blue-eyed Dom looked surprised as he reluctantly voiced his concerns.

"That's what I feel like," Lerant insisted. Life was a joke to Domitan, and Lerant always felt like it was being played on him.

To his irritation, the man only grinned wider. "Eldorne, don't you know that we're all strays in the King's Own?"

xxxxx

"They're good for you."

"I don't know why I spend time with you."

"Because anyone else would have hit you over the head by now. Esmond already has."

He sniffed affectedly. "It's the fate of the great to be misunderstood by their peers."

"Eat your vegetables, Neal."

xxxxx

"I'm not sparing your pride so the Own goes without a good soldier, Jon!" That sounded to be the end of the argument. Shortly thereafter, Raoul walked back into the rooms allotted to the King's Own.

"How much did you hear?"

Lerant looked up from his perch by the window. He was comfortably ensconced with a book, as if he hadn't spent the last hour crouched over a keyhole, listening to the King and the Knight Commander have it out. "I think I manage in the category of dishonor without adding eavesdropping."

"Good." Raoul decided, clearly not believing a word, "Then you can report to Flyndan for weapons, he'll stock you up on what's needed and give you the schedule."

"You're not going to listen to him?" Lerant asked him in disbelief.

Raoul smirked at him. "Don't know what I'm talking about, eh?"

He flushed. "Like you believed me." But he was getting too comfortable again. "The King gave you an order."

"It wasn't an order," the man denied, "Not really. If it were about attending this year's Midwinter ball, then it would have been an order. This was more a, a friendly recommendation."

"He told you to fire me." Lerant said flatly.

"And would you like to be fired? The planning for the Progress will start soon. He'll be too busy with that until it's too late. Besides, kings shouldn't be obeyed in all things. It makes them overly confident. I'll spare any amount of Jon's pride to avoid that."

Lerant looked at him warily. "Do you not know how things are supposed to work, or do you just willfully ignore it?"

"If you're going to do anything, you should do it willfully," Raoul told him brightly, "Come standard bearer, we need to get you properly outfitted. And by the way, if you're going to lie about eavesdropping, you may want to hold your book the right way up."

xxxxx

He was young yet, but he'd learned quickly that knives hurt, and so he raced away from the man waving one at him. Two-Leggers dodged to get out of the cook's way as he wound through their funny stork legs. None of them would help him, but he'd heard two _cats_ talking about a People in Two-Legger skin who lived in the big stone cave. If he could find her, maybe she could stop the knife-man.

But his legs were still clumsy. Already they were tiring. The big stone cave was approaching, but the man was gaining.

One Two-Legger didn't jump out of the way. She didn't smell like People, but it was better than nothing. He dodged behind her and gulped his prize, listening to the raised voice of the man and his defender's calm responses.

Finally, the predator was gone. The Two-Legger, barely more of a pup than he was, lifted Jump to eye-level.

"What am I going to do with you?"

xxxxx

They were back at the palace, and Lerant's shoulder was healing nicely, when Raoul had a visitor. Through the door, Lerant could hear the soft rumble of the King, a far cry from the angry hiss he'd last heard it at, and Raoul's reply. "Told you I needed a standard bearer."

xxxxx

"Why did you do that?"

Kel looked up, tired and sore from her first time in the tournament. Her arms ached, and she knew that they would ache more tomorrow. Goddess willing, she wouldn't be doing that anytime soon.

She was so tired that she almost wanted to snap at Lerant, who had barged into her tent in the half-light of sunset to badger her with unnecessary questions, when she would have much preferred that it had been Cleon doing the barging, with considerably less badgering.

"I already told you, he insulted my teacher. I couldn't let that stand."

Lerant took a half step closer. It might have been intimidating, if she didn't measure an inch taller than him standing up. "You made him apologize to me. Publicly."

"Oh. Yes, I did, didn't I?" The whole day was starting to feel like a blur. Thank the gods she was only a squire, and wouldn't be challenged for a while yet. "Well, he insulted you too. Therefore, he had to apologize for it." Kel yanked her hand away from the griffin, who had lunged at it. "Is there anything else, or can I sleep?"

He scowled at her. "I'm not like that griffin. You can't just decide to adopt me. I'm not one of your strays."

The Lioness had to be teaching Neal some new mind-control spells. There was no other explanation for his voice to pop out of her mouth like that. "I don't have to. My lord already had that end covered."

Lerant tried to stalk from the tent. She didn't look up as she called after him, "Did you slap him?"

He looked back. Kel was struggling to unlace her boots in the darkness. "What?"

"You wanted to slap him. Did you?"

"No. I couldn't after he apologized." Something Lerant really decided he should feel more annoyed about. He couldn't quite bring himself to at the moment though.

"Pity." She pulled off the boot and started on its brother. "He could have used a slapping."

Knowing his face was hidden in the shadows, Lerant allowed himself a grin. "I'm sure there'll be a next time."

xxxxx

Lerant was wounded in the midst of a battle with the more precocious of the Scanran raiders. Stuck with the Girl, he had no choice but to let her bandage his shoulder.

Not like she gave him a choice. No wonder the other squires called her mother.

"How many times to I have to tell you, I'm not one of your strays?"

"Dom says I have better taste than to want you as a stray."

xxxxx

"And we'll need some more supplies if we're to run a decent refugee camp…" Kel trailed off. Lerant wasn't making any snide comments, which usually meant he wasn't listening. "What is it now?"

He was looking behind her. "Shadows are usually darker, that's all."

Now she had to look too. Just behind the corner, a mop of blond hair whirled out of sight.

She grinned at him. "I'll be right back."

Tobe was a small boy, with a squarish chin and a determined air about him that said he was used to taking taunts and was ready to fight them this time. The staff in his hand was whittled at one end. If Lerant squinted, the tip loosely resembled the point of a naginata. He held it defensively, glaring up at the standard bearer.

Kel smirked at Lerant over his head.

"This is Tobe. He _is_ one of my strays." She said wickedly.

"Oh Mithros, not another one." Lerant murmured, thinking of Raoul.

"My lord didn't teach me only logistics, after all."

xxxxx

The Chamber didn't know who had started the tradition of touching the door before going off as a squire, but it relieved the ennui waiting for Midwinter and the latest flock of squires. The Chamber was androgynous; it had no gender, and it did not distinguish between the males that touched the door now and the females who had once touched it. It amused the Chamber, knowing that they were trying to test its power, knowing they really tested themselves.

So the first time she gripped the door, the Chamber did not see anything special in this squire. It did not note her height, or her muscles. The Chamber did not have eyes; how else would it be able to see anything that really mattered? It showed her her present fears, something about writing. She was mad, like many of the others. She left, and the Chamber forgot her.

But then she came back.

And again.

And each time, the Chamber learned more about her.

_Oh yes. You will do nicely._

xxxxx

"You look after her, alright?" Lerant ordered him sternly, the night before the green knights would go off to that miserable mudpit of a refugee camp. He spoke fast, before Peachblossom tried to bite him again. It was crowded in the stall, and the horse had tried twice already. "You have a duty to her now. Don't let people say anything about her because of you." Peachblossom butted him in agreement before taking a third snap at Lerant.

Tobe had the audacity to look scandalized. "As if I woulda!"

xxxxx

Kel grinned at him as he hit the Scanran in the throat, and Lerant decided she had no business looking so chipper while they were disgraced in enemy territory.

"So you came all the way after me?"

"Don't think I didn't do it without orders from my lord. I wouldn't want you to think I like you or anything."

Metal mantises all over the map, and she had the nerve to grin impishly. "Maybe I'm _your_ stray."

"I don't think so." He ducked a blow from a Scanran and took out the enemy behind her. "Dom tells me I have better taste than that."

xxxxx

Tobe and Jump knelt by the Protector of the Small as she recovered from her fight with Blayce and Stenmun. The birds lined up on her other side in a parody of a vigil, chittering warnings at the cat that sat on her belly. Just for today, the small would protect her.

xxxxx

Lerant wrenched open the door at the sound of a crash, cuirass in hand. He scanned the hallway, ready for attack.

It took a strong headbutt against his ankle to get him to look down.

The kitten wove between his legs, vibrating with happiness. When he picked it up, the little nightmare batted at his nose.

"The Wildmage lives in the other wing."

It purred at him.

"Shouldn't you have a mother cat or something?"

It yawned.

Lerant sighed. "Kel had better not see you with me." he said as he carried it into his room.

xxxxx

The half-pint glared at Raoul when he opened the door. His glower was dimmed by a fading black eye and a swollen nose. He didn't give Raoul a chance to ask what couldn't wait until the morning.

"I never asked you to help me! Now he's going to think I got you to beat him up and I _didn't_; I can take care of myself, I don't need any help-"

"Are you nearly finished?" he asked mildly, "Only if you keep talking, his Grace might hear you all the way in his rooms."

The redhead flushed and ducked into Raoul's bedroom. He wouldn't be able to yell at him, but Alan was creative with words.

Raoul tried to get his words out first. "Who said me hitting Ralon had anything to do with you? To be honest, Ralon is pleasantly hittable to just about anyone.

"I don't need you to fight my battles!" he hissed, "How am I supposed to be a knight if I need to rely on anyone else? Why did you do it?"

Raoul frowned. "Being a knight isn't about only relying on yourself. It's about helping people who need it."

Alan's face flamed red. "Well I _didn't _need it!"

"You're my friend." It hurt, that uncertain waver in the redhead's eyes. So Raoul put a stop to it. "You'd better get used to it."

The boy's pride came to the rescue, saving them from a potentially mawkish situation. Alan began to yell at him again and Raoul just stood there and laughed. He kept on laughing right until Duke Gareth arrived in red-and-gold brocade nightgown.

xxxxx

Part of a relief guard assigned to help the repairs to New Hope, Lerant looked past Kel to the array of cats, dogs, birds, waifs, and refugees who were lined up behind her for news.

"Really, Lady Keladry; this is too much."

_Please let me know what you think: reviews and favorites keep my blood-pressure down!_


End file.
